


and all this longing

by DamionAerynStarr



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Confessions, Episode: s07e04 The Spoils of War, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 22:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamionAerynStarr/pseuds/DamionAerynStarr
Summary: 'No,' Jaime thought, fierce and a little crazed. 'You can't have him. Not him.'(Alternate ending to "The Spoils Of War")





	and all this longing

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after Spoils Of War aired. Also, I know nothing about armor, and this is un-betaed, so all mistakes are my own.

Bronn thought he was prepared for the heat, braced himself as he threw himself from his horse at Jaime, but nothing could prepare someone for dragon fire. Gods, the _heat_ it was worse than the middle of summer in Flea Bottom. He gasped, choking on the hot air that seared his throat, and for the first time he pitied those Baratheon soldiers that he burned in wildfire.

He hit the Blackwater Rush, Jaime nearly on top of him, and the force of their impact knocked what little air Bronn had in his lungs out. The weight of Jaime's armor pushed them both underwater before Bronn could twist free, and suddenly his body tried to inhale, taking in only water.

Panic stole steadily over his mind. No matter how much he told himself to remain calm, get your bearings, find the surface, it was smothered by thoughts of Jaime. Jaime, who wore full armor and had a steel hand and had gone into the water after charging a dragon like an ass. Jaime, who Bronn had chased after without a second thought like an ass because Lannister or no, Bronn cared about him and the blonde was probably the closest thing to family a no-name up-jumped sellsword could ask for. Jaime, who might be hurt or unconscious and needed his help the Lannister had horrible self-preservation instincts and Bronn couldn't see him and everything was getting darker and Bronn couldn't breathe he needed air but all he knew was water.

He sent up a prayer to any god that would listen to an asshole of a person to just let him find Jaime. Let him save the one person that meant anything to him in the world.

'Please, Mother, Stranger, any of you please...'

Darker. Colder. All but one single thing unimportant as he went limp and sank deeper.

'I love him. Please...'

He went unwillingly into the dark, chasing memories of a leonine grin and golden hair and sparring swords clashing in the sun.

It was peaceful and silent and Jaime let himself sink. He imagined himself settling on the bottom and never coming up. No more fighting, no more Kingslayer, no more people smiling to his face then sneering at his back.

But...

Jaime opened his eyes. Above him was a dark shape, silhouetted in the feeble light that filtered through the water. He squinted, trying to interpret the shadow like he was seven years old and sitting in the library at Casterly Rock with his father all over again. It suddenly hit him like a punch to the jaw.

Bronn.

Far too slim to be someone clad in armor and the sellsword was the only man good enough and stupid enough to save Jaime from a dragon.

But Bronn wasn't moving. Just sinking.

Jaime was expecting him to kick up towards the surface or even flip around and dive deeper but he didn't. Then Jaime realized he saw no air bubbles trailing up from his only friend, and that was like seeing a large knife come down on his wrist all over again.

'No,' Jaime thought, fierce and a little crazed, as his left hand ripped off the gilded steel right. 'You can't have him. Not him.' He let the hand fall and started at the lacings on his armor, his desperation making his fingers feel fat and slow. Everything was starting to get dark at the edges. 'Not. Him.'

Jaime got one side of his chest piece unlaced just as his feet hit the bottom of Blackwater Rush. He quickly shed the rest, letting it sink to the sand beneath him, then pushed up as hard as he could. Bronn was just in reach, so Jaime wrapped his stunted right arm around his chest and swam up. His entire body ached with effort, and his lungs screamed for air, but Bronn was too limp and too still and that pushed everything else to the back of Jaime's mind.

It seemed like an eternity before Jaime broke the surface, gasping for air. The current had pulled them away from the battle, and smoke rose thick beyond the trees. Jaime refused to think about men turning to ash in dragon fire and swam towards the shore, pulling Bronn behind him. He also refused to think about the fact that he hadn't heard the other man take a breath yet.

He dragged Bronn onto the sand and dropped to his knees. He was exhausted, half-tempted to just lie down and sleep, but...

"Come on," Jaime whispered, mostly to himself, before grabbing his right wrist in his left hand. He'd learned this a long time ago, but never used it. He hoped he remembered it right.

"Please," Jaime said, like a prayer, before bringing his fist down on Bronn's chest hard. When nothing happened Jaime lifted his fist again, higher this time. He repeated the motion with the same result. His eyes burned, and he told himself it was dirt from the river water. "Please, Mother, Warrior, Stranger, any of you, I know I don't deserve to ask for anything but please, don't take him. Not him. Please." He took a breath and knuckled away the wetness in the corner of his eye.

'Please,' He thought as he lifted his fist. 'I love him. Please.' He brought it down with all of his strength.

Bronn's pale eyes flew open and he coughed, water flying from his lips. Jaime fell back in surprise but quickly recovered, rolling Bronn onto his side and thumping him on the back as he coughed up half the Rush.

"You idiot," Jaime said quietly once the sellsword was done. Bronn laid panting in the sand with his eyes closed and didn't say anything. "You fucking idiot."

"Oh, I'm the idiot?" The older man cracked one eye open. "I'm not the one who charged at a fucking dragon." Jaime's hand curled into a fist where it was still resting on Bronn's back.

"No, but you were pretty quick to follow me." Jaime hissed back. Bronn huffed out a laugh.

"Are you complaining that I saved your life?"

Jaime grit his teeth. "I could've ended this war. Killed her-"

"Only person you were going to kill was yourself," Bronn rolled gracelessly onto his back, and Jaime snatched his hand back after remembering where it was. "In case you didn't notice, that was a dragon she had with her. A dragon that was ready to roast you alive if memory serves." He rubbed at his chest with a grimace and Jaime looked away.

"What about you?" It came out softer than he meant. Jaime cleared his throat and licked his lips and didn't think about already dead men trying to dowse their flaming bodies in the river. "You could've run. Could've been back in King's Landing by now." Jaime stared out at the water so he didn't have to look his friend in the eye.

"Aye, I could have," Bronn finally said quietly. "But I couldn't just let you die."

Jaime dared glance at the older man. Bronn was looking away, absently rubbing at his chest. Jaime closed his eyes and tried not to think about pulling his friend's body through the water.

"Me, too," He forced himself to say, because it was the truth and he wanted to be honest, even just for a minute. "I couldn't just let you die, either, Bronn." He kept his eyes closed and breathed, feeling water run in rivulets down his neck.

Bronn glanced at Jaime, then looked away. His chest ached and he rubbed at what would probably be a large bruise in the morning. "Jaime," He said softly. Jaime's head tilted toward him, but his eyes remained closed. Bronn slowly, hesitantly, lifted his hand. He watched it move as if it was detached from him. Bronn was never a careful man, but this moment felt too fragile for anything more, so he carefully laid his hand on Jaime's arm and felt the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt he'd worn under his armor.

Jaime opened his eyes, and looked as tired as Bronn felt. "I thought you were dead," Jaime said, eyes shining like wildfire and voice too rough. "You almost died." Bronn's chest tightened and he swallowed, trying not to pull away, to put up walls and close off before this went too far.

"So did you." Bronn cleared his throat to cover the hitch in his words and looked at his hand, pressing his fingertips into Jaime's arm. He felt the ripple of muscles as Jaime shifted closer.

"Bronn," Jaime whispered, voice fierce and hand gentle on Bronn's cheek. The sellsword's eyes slid up to his. Jaime was close, his breaths puffing warm across Bronn's lips. The older man saw a spark of uncertainty flare to life in Jaime's eyes as they flickered down to his lips and moved his hand up to the other man's shoulder.

"Jaime," He breathed, twisting his fist in the knight's shirt and hauling him in those last few inches.

They both inhaled sharply when their lips met, holding their breath as the world sighed at the inevitable conclusion that was them. Bronn lifted his other hand, pressing his fingers against the nape of Jaime's neck. Jaime moved in closer, kissing harder, and Bronn tilted his head, just as hungry and fierce as Jaime's voice framing his name.

A battlefield burned beyond the trees and the Blackwater Rush flowed behind them and for once they thought of nothing but each other.

 


End file.
